A Perfect World
by Tidal muse
Summary: Buffy's mom invites Spike in on Christmas Eve as he seeks to recover the Gem of Amara.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Buffy stepped through her door after a quick patrol around the town's graveyards. It was quiet out that evening, but it wasn't unexpected since it was Christmas Eve. They usually had a nice meal in the evening when her mother came home from work, which was usually last minute Christmas shopping more than actual work.

She hung up her coat and froze as she walked into the dining room finding Spike sitting at the table with her mother.

"Get out of here this minute." Buffy warned in her most hostile voice.

"Buffy!" Her mother said shocked.

"Mom!" Buffy said. "He's a vampire. We do not invite vampires into the house. It took a lot of trouble getting him disinvited from the last time you invited him in, why would you do it again?"

"He is a charming young man and we were just having a little chat." Joyce said. And a glass of wine. "He has the most impeccable manners."

"This is Spike we are talking about." Buffy said.

"And my mother raised me right." He cut in. "I know how to have a civil conversation with a lady." Joyce smiled.

"Mother, he is evil." Buffy stated, still in a bit of a shock that Spike was in her house and that he hadn't done something to her mother.

"Well, be that as it may, he is all alone this season, so I invited him to join us for dinner."

"What? He is a vampire mom, he doesn't eat dinner."

"Nonsense." Joyce said. "I asked." Usually inviting a vampire to dinner meant you were on the menu. She wasn't sure what angle Spike was working at but she was going to rip him a new one. Or this Christmas Eve dinner was going to turn into an all out brawl between herself and the ludicrously good looking blond vampire. It had only been a few days since he tried to kill her with that stupid ring.

Mom was in full hostess mode and left the room.

"Get out now." Buffy threatened.

"Or you'll what? Ply me with gravy?" He teased much too comfortable in his chair. His face turned serious. "I want my ring back."

"Like that is ever going to happen." She laughed.

"I could have killed your mother while you were out." He said in a quiet voice. "I didn't. I think you owe me."

"I owe you for not killing my mother?" She asked with astonishment. "What I owe you is a royal beating before I stake you. Maybe I will subtly miss your heart. Stake you to a tree and let the sun take care of you."

"Where is my ring, Slayer?"

"Its gone. On its way out of town like you should be if you know what's good for you because I am never going to put up with your pasty ass near me or my mother again."

"Yes well, we both know what class of arse you like near you, don't we princess?" He said referring to his observation of her complete humiliation by the whole Parker debacle. He had pointed it out with such glee a few days earlier. "Maybe if I had known it was so ridiculously easy to get you to drop your knickers, I would have gone about things in a whole different way."

"You're revolting."

"And you're easy."

Joyce entered the room with a modest sized glazed ham.

"There." She said with obvious pride.

"It looks lovely, Mrs. Summers." Spike said and Buffy narrowed her eyes at him.

Joyce did her best to try to keep the conversation going, and to Buffy's complete annoyance, Spike was having an in-depth conversation about vintages of Boudreaux wine with her mother. So much for her mother's contention that Spike was young. He most certainly wasn't and no self respecting young person knew about stupid stuff like wine.

She so wanted to rip into him after this. They were going to have it out outside as soon as she could get him out of the door. Her mother didn't seem to be co-operating in any meaningful way.

"Now we have a tradition that we open one present on Christmas Eve."

"I am sure Spike does not want to witness it." Buffy said through gritted teeth, upset that he had ruined Christmas Eve as it was. She wasn't about to open presents with her arch nemesis watching.

"Nonsense, I would be delighted." He said with a smile. "Nothing but a cold dark crypt to return to."

He could see the Slayer getting more and more worked up, and it warmed the cockles of his cold dead heart. He hadn't intended on spending the evening in the Summers' house. He was laying in wait for the girl when he was seen by the mother and invited in to his quiet pleasure.

He had no intention of killing Joyce Summers. She was a nice lady and he liked her. She treated him well and it was always good to have someone willing to sit down and listen to his problems. It had been a long time since someone had offered to do that for him, until Mrs. Summers. It certainly wasn't something done in the demon bars, and Harmony wouldn't even understand if she ever started talking to him again. He certainly wasn't going to blow a perfectly good cold treatment.

He didn't feel the same about her prissy daughter. His last endeavour to dispatch the girl had failed, but the war was far from over. It was the focus of his life at the moment. It consumed most of his waking thoughts, most of his sleeping ones as well. It is what he had come back to Sunnydale for, and he was certainly not leaving until he had the girl under his fangs. He could practically taste the rush of her blood over his tongue. He was enveloped by her scent as it was, sitting there practically within arms length.

"Now I don't have a present for our guest, but you can have one of Buffy's."

"What!" Buffy whined like a spoilt child.

"That is very kind Mrs. Summers," he said, "but not necessary." It had been ages since he had stretched his manners muscle, but no matter how long it had been it never quite disappeared. Although the idea of him being given one of the Slayer's presents was just too precious. The girl looked sour enough to tackle a large lemon.

"Don't be silly, everyone should have a present on Christmas Eve. Now who is first?" Joyce said and Spike almost felt a little twinge at the kindness, considering he was planning to murder her daughter later, but it passed quickly enough. He felt perfectly at ease with enjoying the moment as it was.

"This one is for you Buffy." Joyce said with a bright smile. "And this one is for you, Spike."

"I have one for him too, its wooden and pointed and I will give it to him later." Buffy said with a over-worked smile.

"Mind your manners, girl." Spike said. And he could see her eyes narrowing a bit further at being admonished by him on etiquette, but the bint was rude. Irrespective, he felt the juices flowing at the thought of their upcoming fight. She seemed keen and he had no plans of denying her.

The girl opened her present, a cellphone. She was obviously overjoyed as she squealed and hugged her mother. There would be no hugging of any kind no matter what the present was, he did have some standards.

He started to open his present. It was heavy and an odd shape, wrapped in some red Christmas paper.

"I'll get the camera." Joyce said and ran out of the room.

"Mom, no!" Buffy said. "I don't want any evidence of this."

It was a snow globe. A little Christmas scene in a little village encased in a glass dome with specs of snow floating around. He didn't know how he felt about the present. It certainly hadn't been something he expected to ever receive.

"I'm so glad my mother has given you my present." Buffy said dripping with sarcasm.

He shook the globe to make it into a blizzard inside the dome, but he felt an odd sensation in his belly as he did so and looked up. Maybe the slayer has stuck a knife in him, but it didn't hurt. Then there was a yank and he heard a scream. The girls scream.

And then he stood on a blanket of snow with the Slayer standing next to him.

"What did you do, girl?" He demanded.

"I didn't do anything." She defended herself. "What happened? Where are we?"

He looked around and they were somewhere else. They were outside and it was snowing. In some township somewhere, it certainly wasn't Sunnydale with the snow and all. Something like an America set designer's version of the perfect English country village. Maybe they were on a set somewhere. Red wooden houses with high pitched gables, lit small paned windows and lots of picket fences. Seeing all those pickets brought his attention back to the girl next to him. He blocked her blow just before it got him in the head.

"Leave off Slayer." He shouted in sharp tones. "I wasn't prepared."

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything." He shouted back blocking another of her blows. He sent one back. He certainly wasn't going to stand there and let himself be used as a punching bag. She did one of those round house kicks of hers, but he got her under her knee and knocked her off balance. Ha, got the bitch.

She recovered quick, flipping up on her feet and coming again. Oh, his blood was singing. This is what he lived for, duking it out with the bitch. He got her a good punch in the stomach, but then she jumped and kicked him in the head, knocking him back.

She drew blood he knew. She'd split his lip, he could taste and smell the blood. It just made it better. She didn't have a stake. She hadn't had one when she walked into the dining room. She hadn't anticipated that he would be there, so she hadn't prepared with weapons. And now it was just the two of them, no weapons, evenly matched and he was going to show the bitch. Well, he still had his, just waiting to get close enough to bite.

They were slogging it out and she was tiring a little. He was going to bruise after this, but he didn't care. And then she got a great kick in his sternum which hurt like a bitch. He could feel that something was out of line but it cracked back when he stretched.

He threw her as hard as he could and she went crashing into one of the fences. Unfortunately she had finally clicked onto the pickets and was breaking one down to size. He wasn't tired enough to worry about her with wood yet. A good back slap got her flying to the ground again, and a kick sent the picket flying.

She knocked him off his feet and they grappled on the ground. He had his legs around her, pulling her to him and she had her hand on his throat keeping his teeth from their desired destination. He could do this forever, he didn't need to breath, but they were stuck in a position where neither of them was getting anywhere.

She had no weapon, there was little she could really do to him other than hurt him and he had a pretty high tolerance particularly as she was this close and that sweet blood of her was singing its fast and steady pulse into his ears. Like a mesmerising drumbeat. He could feel the heat from her body. He had his thighs around her, holding her still. If someone saw them like this, it could be interpreted very differently.

Well, now that they were stuck, where the fuck were they? With all the shouting and ruckus, he would have expected someone to come out of the houses, but no one came. There wasn't a single noise other than the Slayer's breathing.

And then everything shifted. Another sharp tug and they flew up into the sky. Swirling around in the snow. The village was shifting beneath them ever which way. He had no idea what was going on. The only thing he had to hold onto was her and she had her arms around his waist until they smacked into some kind of barrier hard enough that he lost grip on her. And then off flying again. She had a grip on the back of his shirt. He didn't have his duster, he took it off when he got invited to dinner. Damn his fucking manners, look what that had gotten him. Now he was flying through the air in some freaking dimension with an irate Slayer hanging onto him. No, he was going to murder all the Summers women, he decided.

He smacked into another barrier, and the Slayer smacked into his back. He slid down the barrier like some kind of demonic slide. It looked like water and it was cold like water, but solid. The ground was coming fast. The Slayer grappled up him. She was going to use him as a cushion the bitch. He hit hard, losing his ability to think.

He had no idea what was going on or why a very winded Slayer was straddling him.

"That's my mom." She said. He had no idea what she was referring to. Maybe this was one of those bizarre pseudo sexual Slayer dreams of his. "That's my living room." She continued. "We're…on the mantle piece?"

"We're in the fucking snow globe, you dumb bint." He said. "Get off me."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"I'm not dumb!" Buffy said and punched him in the nose. A satisfying crack preceded his howls of pain. She would take a moment to savour the justice of it all, but she was stuck in a snow globe. She stood up and banged on the glass, shouting as loudly as she could. Nothing happened.

Then she was knocked sideways by a kick to her thigh.

"You broke my nose, you bitch." Spike said.

She prepared for another blow, but he didn't advance, just rubbed his aching nose. He was bleeding.

"You're like the size of rice grain, no one is going hear you." He said.

She didn't trust him not to attack her, it was like instinct with him. And then it went dark.

"Oh just fantastic." He yelled with sarcasm. "Your mother has turned out the lights. Did she not notice that we had disappeared out of the room. Are all the Summers women completely oblivious?"

"No, she would not just assume everything was alright if I were to disappear with a vampire in the room." She said.

"There were no signs of struggle." He said. "Besides, you mother likes me."

"She does not!" Buffy gasped. "She's just a sucker for a sob story. I really have to talk to her about who she invites into the house."

"Well the villagers haven't come out with their pitch forks yet." Spike said.

"What kind of people would live in a snow globe?"

"They don't." He said. "I can't hear anything. There is no one here."

"Why are we here?" Buffy asked, still keeping an eye on her arch nemesis.

"Well, I'm certainly not supposed to be here." He said. "Ever consider that your mum is trying to get rid of you?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Maybe she was trying to get rid of you. That's why she invited you in, to lock you in here so you would forever not be a pain in my ass."

"Well, if that case it backfired didn't it, cause you're here too, luv, gracing me with your presence." He said then got a suspicious look. "Unless your mother wanted that. Place us together in a quaint little village to work out our differences. A nice little date perhaps?"

"No not even a possibility." Buffy dismissed like it was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard.

"Then it stands to reason, that this little adventure was just for you." He said. "And you had to drag me along with you into your little problems. Bloody typical."

"I'm going to go have a look." Buffy said looking back towards the village. "There might be something that explains all this."

"If this is that little witches fault, I know who I am having for Christmas dinner."

"You won't get the chance to have Christmas Spike, you won't live long enough."

"Oh, strong words from a little girl." He said before she smacked him.

"Oi." He yelled. "That hurt. There is nothing I want more than to crack you open like a Christmas cracker, Slayer, but we have more important things to deal with. Can you try to focus."

Buffy huffed and picked up the pace to the group of houses ahead. The little lanes between the houses were small, too small for cars. All the houses had low picket fences with cute little gates. The insides look warm and inviting, but there was no movement inside. No flicker of TVs. It looked cold and it was snowing, but it wasn't really cold. A bit cool perhaps like a typical Sunnydale winter, not cold enough to snow, but the snow did feel cold and wet when it landed on her face.

She walked into the centre of the village where there were a few shops. Gorgeous little shops with paned windows and Christmas decorations. A butcher, a baker, a cure little post office.

"This is gorgeous." She said. "Could you imagine living in a place like this?"

"No, because places like this don't exist. This is a fantasy. Believe me, real quaint little villages don't look like this."

"What would you know about quaint little villages?" She dismissed him.

"I am English." He said offended. "And quaint little villages always have their dirty little secrets, you just have to stay long enough. Probably just like this place, just give it time and its going to show you its vicious little underbelly."

"Such a cynic." Buffy said, but he did have a point, she just wasn't going to agree with him on principle. Instead she decided to walk into one of the little houses. She knocked on the door and opened it.

"It isn't locked." She said.

"Wouldn't be, would it?" He said. "Wants to draw you in and…" He made a snapping sound with his jaw.

Buffy stepped inside. It was a cosy little room with a dining table laden with Christmas dinner. Turkey, ham, steaming potatoes, the whole works. Roaring fire. Even Martha Stewart couldn't do cute on this scale.

"It smells fantastic." Buffy said referring to the food. "It smells real."

Spike grumbled as he stood on the step outside the house watching her.

She walked into the next room, which was another cute little room. A library with books covering every wall, a chair that looked like you could sleep in it. She circled the room and walked up the stairs. The wooden stairs creaked as she walked up. There were two bedrooms upstairs and a bathroom with an old fashioned tub. Completely in the same style as the rest of the house. Incredibly inviting.

She wondered if it was possible to live in a place like this when she grew up and lived on her own. It wouldn't be impossible to live like this, would it? A husband, maybe a child. Happy.

Thoughts of Parker stung her. Definitely not someone who wanted a nice little life, neat and compact. Surely there must be someone out there who just wanted to be happy.

She dismissed her stupid little dream. The truth as Spike so eloquently pointed out was that someone or something had done this to her, and him by default. Maybe it was someone friendly. Maybe a new spell Willow was working on, but chances were much higher that it was someone who meant her harm.

She walked downstairs and out of the house. Walked over to the next house. It was slightly different, but in essence the same. A perfect little family home decked out for Christmas.

Continuing back to the little square, she looked in the window in one of the stores before trying the door. It was open too.

"Very trusting people." Buffy said.

"Complete lack of people." Spike said.

"Look at this little gift shop, its gorgeous." She said and Spike gave her a look like she was the biggest pushover ever. "All I'm saying is that whoever designed this has a good imagination."

They walked in the store. An assortment of things lined the shelves. Nothing plastic or crass, just perfect little gifts and Christmas decorations.

She went and tried some of the other stores, with the blond vampire trailing after her. All the stores were open. All in full Christmas mode. She particularly liked the candy store.

"No liquor store. Bloody teetotallers." Spike said behind here.

"Are you still here?" She asked nonchalantly.

"Where am I supposed to go? There are no graveyards. Apparently people don't die in perfect little villages. No brothel either." He complained as he followed Buffy around the outside of the village.

"There is nothing here to tell us what is going on." She said.

"Maybe it wasn't intended that you get out." He said. She shuddered at the thought. Getting caught in a place with no one for company but Spike would be a version of hell she had never truly considered before. Maybe she fallen asleep and was having a nightmare.

There was just nothing. Not a sound other than the crunch of snow under foot. Nothing to do, nothing to keep the adrenalin going, unless she decided to dust Spike. Her mother has gone to bed, probably assuming that she had gone patrolling or something, she often did after dinner. However, she didn't normally go patrolling when there was a hostile vamp in the house. What was her mom thinking? They really did need to sit down and have a heart to heart about this.

Buffy was getting tired and the thought of one of those nice cosy beds was calling to her as she stifled a yawn. What else could she do, walk around some more with her very unwelcome tail.

"I'm going to bed." She decided abruptly.

"Well, pick a bed goldilocks." He said. "Hopefully the bears won't come home and rip you apart."

"Well, for one thing, you won't be invited. Find some coal shoot to sleep in."

"Can't lock me out, princess, we are already in your house and I have a standing invite thanks to your mum."

"I swear Spike, if you come into my house, I will end you."

"Poor little Slayer, stuck in a bubble with no protection from things that go bump in the night. Sleep tight, Slayer. I would keep one eye open if I were you."

"Yeah, whatever." She said too sick of seeing his face to engage with him further. "Shoo."

"Shoo? I'm not a bloody pigeon." He said. "Self righteous little cow."

Buffy narrowed her eyes and stood her ground until he walked away. When he was out of sight, she went back to the first cottage she saw. A chair leg broke into a nice enough stake if he tried anything during the night.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Argh." Buffy said when she woke up in the warm cosy bed. That wasn't so bad, but she was still in the friggin snow globe. It was completely quiet when she got up and looked out the window. Nothing moved other than the snow, which perpetually kept on falling. She wondered where Spike had hidden himself.

It wasn't full on sunny outside, which was understandable as they were still technically inside. It would mean that Spike could move around.

She guessed this wasn't a dream. What were the chances that you would go to sleep in your dream and wake up the next day still in your dream. Pretty unlikely, she reckoned.

She got dressed and wondered around the house. There was no brand names for anything, no commercial bottles or products whatsoever. She found a door that she hadn't seen the last time. Inside it was a kitchen filled with baking smells. It smelled absolutely divine to her empty stomach.

She saw a tray of sugar cooking with glazed cherries on them and they made her mouth water. They were still warm to the touch, like someone had just pulled them out of the oven. She picked the cookie up and turned it over. It smelled real, she put her tongue to it and it tasted sweet. After a moment of hesitation, she took a bite. It crumbled just like a cookie and the butter taste filled her mouth. If this wasn't a real cookie it made a really good effort to imitate it in every way. She took another bite, it was delicious.

The mug of steaming hot chocolate with cream and marshmellows was delicious as well. She took the cup with her as she walked out of the kitchen. The fully Christmas dinner was still on the table, warm and waiting just like it had been the previous night.

She tried one of the carrots and it smushed under her teeth like it should.

"Huh." She said. She cut and buttered a slice of bread. It was absolutely perfect as well.

Well, whoever did this didn't want her to starve, she thought, as she considered possible motives for doing this to her. Probably someone was planning something and wanted her out of the way. It seemed a little deliberate for an accidental spell. Accidental spells were messy and unpredictable. This seemed too well planned.

Spike slammed the door open hard enough to make her jump.

"See I thought we had rule." She said. "You don't come into my house."

"I never agreed, did I?" He said sulkily and sat down on the other side of the table shaking the snow off his shoulders. "And here was me hoping you had turned into something scaly and green during the night. Maybe even dead, was hoping for dead to be honest with you."

"No point in the both of us being dead, there only room for one overdue corpse. In fact come to think of it, evil dead was not part of the blueprint for this little incident, perhaps we will have to correct that deviation."

"Undead, thank you very much!" Spike said. "Having a nice breakfast? It's probably poisoned. One can only hope."

"It is pretty nice, I have to admit. Everything is warm and moist just like it just came out of the oven."

Instantaneously gravity released and they flew up into the ceiling, hitting hard.

"Your blood mother!" Spike yelled. "Consideration of a panicked pull, that one."

"She doesn't know we are in here, does she." Buffy yelled as she was flying towards the floor again, but the world shifted sideways and she flew straight into the beautifully decorated Christamas tree.

"It's a real tree." She said.

"Well, that is good to know." Spike said with anger. "I was wondering as I was having by face smashed in by the ceiling beams."

And then they were unceremoniously dumped on the floor again.

"Guess she put us back." Buffy said as she scrambled off the floor. She shot out the door and ran towards the edge of the globe. The orientation was a little different from before, so she had to adjust direction towards the brighter direction. As she got to the edge and put her eyes up to the glass, she could see her living room on the outside.

"Mom!" She yelled, banging on the glass. She could see her mother pacing and then the door open.

"Giles!" She yelled as she saw her watcher walk through the door. "Giles!"

"They still can't hear you." Mr. Annoying said from behind her.

"She knows something is wrong and she called Giles." She said, proud that her mother had realised that something was wrong.

"They're not going to be able to see us." He continued in his cool voice. "We are tiny."

"Then we need to make a sign. Something big, in the snow." She said. "Something bright that they would be obvious to anyone that sees it."

"Blood is bright." Spike said.

"You can do it." She turned to him. "Write SOS on the snow. They are bound to see it."

"Fuck off!" He said. "You open a vein if you want, I'm not."

"You technically don't need your blood. It is for the greater good. Or do you really want to be stuck here."

"I am quite attached to my blood, thank you very much."

"We need to make a sign."

"I could slaughter you and use your entrails." He said with a grin.

"Yeah, but they'd just leave you here, wouldn't they?"

The bint had a point, he conceded. No one would lift a finger to get him out of here. The only chance he had was if precious Miss Sunshine needed help, they bent over backwards if she broke a nail.

"We'll just have to use something." She continued. "Can't use the pickets since they are white."

"Just use the floorboards in one of the houses." He said, hating the fact that he was co-operating with her, but needs must.

"Good idea." She said. "I mean idea that isn't as stupid as your usual."

He stood and watched as the Slayer wandered off to the village. He was damned if he was going to help her. He looked out the glass and watched the twit look over the sofa where they had been opening presents. What had gotten into him that he would have stayed around last night to have a little Christmas with the Slayer and her mum. There was something seriously wrong with his sanity.

The Slayer returned with boards dragging behind her. She started arranging them in the snow.

"They're going to get snowed over." He said.

"We will just have to keep them clear, then." She said. "There." She said proudly after she finished writing 'HELP' in the snow. "They should see it in no time."

He made a non committal grunt as he turned back to the living room scene through the glass. But none of them were coming towards the snow globe. If they did and picked up the globe, they were going to go flying around again.

"I'm going back inside." He said.

"But.." She started as he walked off. Let her deal with it, it was all her fault after all.

He had taken one of the other sickly sweet cottages last night. There was nowhere else for him to sleep and he had no particular aversion to a nice comfy bed. But he wasn't in the mood for bed so he checked out the smattering of shops in the centre of the village. Starting with the one he wanted to check out, the butcher.

But it wasn't a real butcher, it was the candy floss version of a butcher with large roasts, sausages and plump poultry. None of which was any use to him. The one thing he needed from there was completely absent. Which meant that he had just left behind the only source of what he needed in this horrendous place. Well that did put a little twist on things, didn't it?

Thunderous tapping reverberated through the whole place.

"Willow!" He could hear the girl screaming as he got outside. "She's seen it. Willow!"

He walked back towards the Slayer and her sign.

"Willow!" She kept on shouting.

"Yeah, alright, I think she got the point." He said as a giant eyeball blocked out the whole view and the Slayer was waving frantically.

He was pleased that their little situation had been discovered, not that he'd ever let on.

The witch walked away and she was in discussions with the ponce and the girl's mother. The girls mother then came over and looked into the globe.

Really like living in a fish bowl, he thought while the girl was waving frantically again.

The witch came over and put a slip of paper onto the glass. He had to crane his neck to read it.

'We're working on it.' It said. Then she pulled it back and scribbled some more on it before putting it back. 'Might take a bit of time, stay put. Are you ok?'

The girl ran back towards the village.

"Stay put? Where are we supposed to go?" He grumbled.

She came back after a minute with a pen and some white old fashioned wrapping paper. The kind he used to get his presents wrapped in as a boy.

'We're fine. Got food. Might murder Spike.' She wrote and held up the paper to the glass.

"Speak for yourself." He said.

"What?"

"There's lots of food here for you. For me the spread is a little more limited." He said. "But luckily not completely absent."

Her eyes widened, then she started laughing. "Poor Spikey, no one to kill."

"If this goes on long enough, Slayer, I will have to eat something." He said with a sly smirk.

"Well, it won't be me." She said matter of factly.

"Get a bit nasty when I'm hungry." He said with his tongue stroking his teeth.

"Well you haven't seen nasty until you've seen some two bit vamp try to bite me."

"So what, I'm just supposed to starve?"

"Well, I'm certainly not going to help you. Slayer, remember." She said pointing to herself. "I don't help vampires, I kill vampires. So in that stream, I am happy to stake you if you want."

"Bitch." He said.

"I hope this doesn't turn into an Amy thing." Buffy said turning back to the glass.

"What's an Amy thing?"

"Well Amy turned herself into a rat and Willow has been trying ever since to turn her back."

"How long?" Spike said with concern. All he needed to complete this week was a useless witch.

"Two years now."

"Bloody two years!" He yelled. "What the hell am I supposed to do for two years?"

"Like I said, happy to stake you. Anytime."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Spike stood at the edge of the globe watching the world outside. There was nothing happening. The sun way up and it was shining softly through the window like it did early morning. He really had no choice is resetting his time. The light went out around eleven leaving the whole room in complete darkness. There was nothing else to do but sleep.

He dreamt of biting people all night long. The hunger was asserting itself pretty strongly. He hadn't eaten before getting invited into Buffy's house for Christmas Eve. He knew it might turn into a full on tussle between them and he didn't want to do that on a full stomach. He wasn't at his optimal when fed, made him less hungry. But now he was really hungry.

Every cell in his body was aching. And unless the chinless wonder that was her Watcher came through this morning, then the only source of food was warmly tucked into bed in one of the little cottages. He could imagine the blood coursing strongly through those veins, that little bit warmer people were when they slept. He could just imagine sinking his fangs into that heavenly heat.

However, with her, there would be all fists and elbows, and other hard bits before the soft velvet skin broke under his bite. He had always planned to take her on, and drink deep, he just didn't want to be this hungry when he did it. It was distracting and he needed all his wits around him to take her. She was the ultimate fight, he knew that. And today was the day, out of necessity more than anything.

He would put it off if the chinless wonder came through this morning, for a little while, as having it out with her was the true and ultimate goal. But he couldn't kill her here, they would just leave him in here to fade if he did. So he had to watch himself, not get carried away.

He waited a few hours, but there didn't seem to be any activity to indicate that they were ready to get them out.

No time like the present, he decided. No point waiting until he was weaker. He returned to the village and sought out Buffy's cottage. There were no locks on the doors in this supposedly perfect little village. The complete sham of a village. Places like this didn't exist, people were the problem, too flawed to live in perfection.

He opened her door and listened. She was awake and inside the next room. He could smell her scent and his mouth started to water. He let the demon out as it was time to play. He quietly walked towards the door to the room she was in and opened the door.

"Slayer." He said. He didn't feel the need to take her by surprise. It was more fun if she knew it was coming. She was holding a mug of hot chocolate. It had some kind of spice in it.

"Dead person." She said back.

He approached her and he watched as her guard came up. Watched as the deceptively small frame took on a strong fighting stance. He'd seen it before. He felt excitement light every cell in him. He felt for her and she threw the mug at him. It got him in the head, but it was a mug, what was it going to do? Knock him out? She followed it with a good right hook and he used the momentum of it to swing him around and knock her off her feet.

She got a good kick in his chest which threw him back on the kitchen island, that practically placed a frying pan in his hand. She protected her head, but he got her hard in the shoulder. She scrambled out of the room.

"Oh come on." He yelled teasingly. "We were just starting to have fun. I'm just going to take a little bite, I promise."

He straightened out and walked through the door. She was still here, he could smell her. He could smell fear too, which was like ambrosia as far as he was concerned. He rounded the corner and got a hard smack in the face with a fire poker. It hurt but he laughed. She kept of hitting him with the brass fire poker until he got her arm, and her jaw with the other fist. She fell back on table sending the steaming Christmas dinner flying.

He didn't normally like hitting women, although the Slayers were an exception. Hitting normal women, who really had no way of fighting back was just distasteful. He loved hitting the slayers, loved watching them take the force of the blows. He fully acknowledged that there was something erotic in it, which just wasn't there when fighting a man.

She recovered quickly and they traded blows. He loved her strength, and that little look of complete determination on her little face. There was no mercy in the girl. She never hesitated in going for the kill, he had watched her so many times. Watching her, he did wonder what the difference was between the white hats and the black hats. When it came down to it, she was just as much a killer as he was.

She got a two legged kick in the chest, which threw him back against the outside door which gave way. He rolled on the snow outside until he was standing again.

"You broke my door!" She yelled. "You complete cretin."

She came for him again and he blocked her, but managed an elbow in her face, which knocked her back on her door step. She came back with a back handed punch which threw him to the floor.

She had one of the little pickets from the fence in her hand.

"Now, you are completely surplus to requirements. I think its something we should address, don't you?" She swiped the picket at her but he blocked her.

"Oh, sweatheart, is it over already? We were getting on famously." He teased. "You really do have trouble keeping a man, don't you? See, you put out when you're not supposed to, and then not at all when it matters."

He could see the pain ghost across her face before the anger returned.

"You're not a man." She said and came at him again. "And where I put anything is so incredibly far from being any of your business."

"Come on Slayer, just need a little drink." He said.

"So never going to happen." She said with steely determination. "In fact, in a minute, it won't be something either of us has to worry about."

"Come now, no need to be inhospitable." He said.

"Inhospitable?" She said. "You're company was never welcomed."

"You're mother didn't seem to think so."

"Can you stop mentioning the little mistake my mother made?" She spat. "It doesn't matter, she will completely understand why I had to dust you."

She came at him again and he ducked out of the stakes path. He managed to knock her back until she sprawled out over the snow. He was weakening. His lack of food meant that he didn't have the stamina he normally did. He had to act now.

He threw himself on top of her and pinned her wrists back over her head. He had dreamed of this moment on so many occasions. But as he got closer, she got a knee in her ribs which pushed him off to the side. Her wrists slipped out of his hands, she got a kick in which nearly broke some of his fingers. Another got him in the head so hard it flipped him on his back.

He was weakening and she wasn't. He cursed everything he could think off. He needed rest to get his strength back, but it wasn't truly going to come back until he'd fed. He was in a bit of a pickle. His only hope was to get her by surprise, or just pure luck. He couldn't really count on either at the moment.

She got another good kick in the ribs. He had to focus, he decided. His arm shot out to grab her picket holding hand before she got it down. As he held her arm, he could feel her strength surpassing his, just slightly.

"If you kill me, you will be all alone." He said.

"Not really a convincing argument. More of an incentive really."

"What if it takes two years? What if you are in here two years? Maybe more."

"Then I should definitely kill you now."

"You will lose your mind. No creatures are meant to be alone that long."

"I don't need you." She said. "No one ever needs the misfortune of getting stuck with you. Actually, I think you already have to be seriously mental to begin with, don't you? And I sadly, aren't mental enough to want anything to do with you. But you know what? I don't have to kill you, I can just sit back and watch you shrivel up into nothing. It might actually be entertaining. You actually deserve a really painful death."

"I wouldn't die." He said.

"When there is nothing left of you but pain, I will kill you." She said. "When you're begging for me to kill you, I might just have enough pity on you to put you out of your long standing misery. Don't say I never did anything for you."

She got up like he was disgusting and infectious, then dropped the picket and walked away.

"If you come near me, I am going to pin you to the wall so I can watch you shrivel." She called behind her.

Well, that didn't go like he hoped. He couldn't help but feel a little hurt at her categorical rejection. It irked him a little that she refused to recognise him for the fighter he was. True enemies deserved a little respect.

He flopped down on the ground and watched the snow fall towards him. He'd give his left nut for a cigarette. After a few moment of self pity, he got up.

He paced around the village for a while, trying to come up with a plan. He really was in a pickle. He was stuck with the one person who would not show him an ounce of pity. Even Angel, who probably hated him more than anyone ever had, wouldn't be cruel enough to watch him fade.

He checked again in the afternoon, but there was no watcher or witch working their mojo in the Summer's living room then either. He could feel real fear now. He didn't really fear much, but he did fear fading. Probably feared death less. He hadn't been truly hungry a lot, just the odd time when logistics made feeding a bit hard, but usually the sun would go down and all was fine eventually.

He could feel the hunger biting into him now. The demon was screaming inside his head. The slayer was the answer, he just needed to have his head together to think this through.

Was she really cruel enough to watch him fade? She wasn't really prone to cruelty, not like Dru was. His only real hope, now that he was weakening was that she didn't have the stomach for it.

He walked back to the village. He could see her moving insider her little cottage. The outer door she kicked him through didn't quite fit right anymore. He opened the door and stepped in. He made enough noise that she knew he was there. She was sitting down at the table, all of the generous Christmas dinner was back on the table.

"Come for dinner?" She asked with a wry smile.

He sat down in a chair across from her and watched her eat.

"This turkey is just succulent." She said. "And the gravy is the homemade type, made from real fat. And the potatoes are roasted to perfection. I am going to get big as a house if I eat this every day."

He watched as the Slayer shoved neat forkfuls of food into her pink little mouth. As hungry as he was, the food held no interest for him.

"Spikey, Spikey, Spikey, looking a bit drawn there." She said. "Not looking good at all. Eyes not so sparkley, skin a bit pasty. Looking a bit like what you truly are."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Buffy didn't know what to do with herself the next day. The novelty had worn off, and she was getting frustrated that Giles and Willow hadn't sorted this out yet. She was pretty sure they would, probably today. Hopefully today. Cute as this village was, there was nothing to do. She'd had a nice long bath this morning.

She hadn't seen Spike since last night. He must have found some hole to crawl into. She wondered if he would attack her again today. Probably.

She needed to get out of here. She went down to the edge of the globe and checked what was going on in the outside world. There was nothing. Her mother was at work and the house was quiet. Likely if anything was going to happen it would be tonight. She would just have to sit tight until then.

She wandered back to the village. There was nothing to do, she couldn't even work on any assignments as she didn't have any of her texts or notes, or more importantly Willow's notes.

Spike stepped out from behind a corner. She tensed, watching for an attack. Why did she have to get stuck here with him of all people? If it had been Willow, they would be having a great time. Or Xander, there would be all snow ball fights and candy consumption. No, she got stuck with Mr. Incurably Nasty.

"What do you want?" She finally demanded.

"You have to feed me." He said.

"No, I don't." She said and walked past him.

"But I am hungry." He said and followed her.

"Well, its not my fault you're here, is it?" She said. "You managed to get yourself invited into my house, and by sheer force of nature, something bad was bound to happen to you. And look, it did. Surprise." She stopped. "I am the Vampire Slayer, have you forgotten. Not the Vampire Saver. Its not my business to save you because you got yourself in a tight spot."

"You're all about saving people."

"People being the operative word." She said. "If I help you, I would be responsible for all the people you kill subsequently. Who knows what awful things you will do once you get out of here. I probably help you and you repay me by killing my mother."

"I wouldn't hurt Mrs. Summers." He said offended.

"Really? You just came over to wish her a Merry Christmas?" She said with disbelief.

"I did as it happens." He said.

"And I so don't believe anything you say."

"I did." He defended. "Mind you, I had all together different plans for you."

"You're despicable." She said. "I should kill you. That is my job description."

"You won't kill me."

"Oh really, and why is that?"

"Because I am all weak and defenceless." He said. "That is what good guys do, help the defenceless."

"You are not defenceless." She said with a disbelieving snort.

"I am so, weak as a kitten." He said. "I can barely stand."

"And yet, here you are."

"Look, my hands are shaking." He said and held out his hand. It was shaking a bit. "And let's neither of us pretend that you haven't helped a vampire before. You will when it suits you."

"That's different." She said knowing he was referring to Angel.

"No its not."

"He wasn't going to go out and kill lots of people after."

"You don't know that absolutely. You just change the rules to suit you. One rule for your honey, different rules for everyone else. Your hypocritical, that's what you are."

"I am not." She said. "And there is absolutely no point to this conversation. I should kill you. I should do it right now." She took out the stake she had fashioned and put it to his chest.

He didn't back off, but stayed put in defiance.

"You won't hurt me." He said pointedly. "I am weak and defenceless, and that goes against your nature."

She made a snorting noise.

"And you need me." He said. "It could well be that your half-wit Watcher and hapless witch can't fix this. Then I'd be all you have, for who known how long. And no matter what you say, you won't be able to watch me fade, it is an excruciating process, one you don't have the stomach for it. You will have to feed me. We both need each other in this. I need you and you need me."

"I don't need you."

"Oh really, were you having so much fun on your own this morning?" He said. "That might stretch out over endless days and endless nights. Nothing but madness nipping at you. You'd end up just like Dru. Mental instability, not usually a quality preferred in a slayer."

That was a cheap shot and she knew it. She did not need him. There would never be a day when she would need him. Ok, maybe he had been useful when Angelus was on a rampage, but he had repeatedly tried to kill her ever since.

"Giles will sort this." She said. "And then you leave town before I catch you." She pushed past him.

She had given him enough passes. She should kill him, and this will be yet another time she had given him leeway that she wouldn't give to anyone else. Except Angel. Giles would get them out tonight and she would never have to lay eyes on him again. A bit of hunger would serve him right. He deserved to suffer for the suffering that he had caused in his dreadful unlife.

He hadn't attacked her, which meant that he truly was weak. But she was not going to worry about a vampire, that was wrong on so many levels, especially considering it was the one vampire that had consistently tried to kill her. And would again given half the chance.

Willow and Giles came over in the early evening. She could see them talking. She hadn't seen Spike since earlier, she had no idea where he was. Her mother wasn't looking happy. She had her arms crossed like she did every time she was angry or disappointed.

Willow eventually came over with her note pad.

_Tried something, it didn't work. Got something else, need ingredients. Coming from Atlanta._

Buffy had no idea what they needed from Atlanta, but it meant that they were not getting out tonight. Maybe not even tomorrow. She sighed as she was more than ready to be out of here.

She trudged back to the village. Spike was sitting on a step. He really was looking worse for wear. Worse than before.

"Slayer." He said.

"They are just waiting on some ingredients." She said and walked into her house.

She wasn't happy, she felt tension. Hated being in this situation. She was so sure that she would be out tonight, back to her own bed and well shot of him, but it wasn't to be. Now she was stuck here with a starving vampire. Her nemesis no less. But he was right, she would struggle to kill him in this state. It would feel a little too much like an execution and that just didn't sit right.

Maybe the ingredients would be here first thing in the morning. She was sure they had FedEx'd whatever they needed. She might ask her mom to go get him a pint of blood from the butchers at day break so he could have it as soon as they're out, then chase him out of town as soon as possible. She wanted him gone so badly, she might even give him gas money.

She tried to clear her mind of her troubles. God knew what was going on in Sunnydale while she was stuck in here. She felt so impotent and useless. And kind of pointless. What was a Slayer when there was nothing to Slay?

She went to bed when the lights went out. She tried to sleep, wishing there was some stars she could see out the window, but it was dark except for the little light coming from the street lights out on the street.

She heard a shuffle and a creak as someone was coming up the stairs. No surprises on who that would be.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded. "I thought we agreed that you wouldn't come in my house."

"Like I said, I never agreed." He said. His voice was weak. He moved very slowly.

"I need some blood." He said. "Buffy, please."

He had never used her name before, as far as she could recall. Begging was not in his nature. It told her that he was hurting severely enough to let go of his pride.

"Just a little would do." He said. "Just enough. I'll just the scars that are already there. Be gentle. Won't hurt you. Just a little… please."

She couldn't see his face in the dark, but she could hear the desperation in his voice.

"Fine." She said, cursing herself for being the biggest sucker on the planet. "But I will have my stake and if you take too much, or in any way try to hurt me, its over for you. Do you understand?"

She could see him nod and she sat up as he came forwards to access her neck. It felt every kind of wrong to offer her neck to a vampire. She held the stake up to his chest as he came close. He hesitated for a second then lowered his mouth to her neck.

It felt surreal being that close to him. On some level it was the first time she was really aware of him, him being more than an unpleasant event that annoyed her. Being a real person, well quasi- person.

She felt his fangs pierce her neck and withdraw. The quick pain. He groaned and then he fed on her neck. His arms came around her holding her close. His hands were kneading her back like it would make her blood flow faster. He might have been weak but he was still incredibly strong and over the next few seconds, she was pushed back into the pillows as he fed on her.

It was just such a disturbingly intimate act. She had known that from the time Angel was sick. There was only one other act that had just that degree of togetherness.

She counted thirty seconds before telling him to stop. He didn't seem to hear her and she depressed the stake in his chest enough for him to feel the pain, and it he drew back from her neck.

He sat back a little and seemed to consider her. She pressed the stake back to him in case he was just contemplating that he wasn't happy with how much he got.

"That's enough." She said.

After a few more moments, he relaxed.

She couldn't believe she had just fed Spike. There was yet another thing she had to try to keep out of Giles's official Watcher's journal. And equally, she couldn't believe that she and Spike had just…embraced. Not like a little 'How's the family' hug, like a full on body embrace. And now she had the completely unwanted information that he body was hard, strong and masculine.

Maybe it was a bad idea to let him feed directly from her, maybe she should have slit a wrist and lived with the scar. She was really trying to keep the scars to a minimum, but there was a price to pay this way too, she just wasn't entirely sure what it was.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Spike lay in his bed and watched shadows on the ceiling as cars drove by outside the Summers' house. He could feel her blood singing in his veins. He wasn't sated, but he wasn't dire hungry any more. Her blood was incredibly sweet, he wasn't sure if it actually was or if it was his extreme hunger, or the fact that he had achieved a goal of feeding of the Slayer. This particular Slayer.

He could still feel her heat in him, on his lips. He sighed and listened for any noise, but there was none. She had succumbed to her own pity as he knew she would. Well hoped anyway.

Problem was that he needed to do this every day and he needed her to co-operate with that. He wouldn't take a lot, but it meant he needed it often. Being the Slayer, her body would recover the loss without much effect. Getting her to agree wasn't guaranteed, getting her to do something once didn't necessarily mean that she would automatically do it again.

He would worry about that tomorrow, for now he would just savour the victory of today. He wanted to go out, to tell the world that he'd fed of her. It would make him a bit of a legend, even with her still alive. It was a good day to be Spike. He hadn't had a lot of good days lately.

He slept well that night. He was hungry when he woke up, knowing he would be hungry all day. He wouldn't approach for a bite until later, much later. In the dark. People allowed things in the dark that they never would during the light of day. He figured she would be more open to things in the dark, where no one would see.

Staying in this village was boring. There was nothing to do, except to study his enemy. He had studied her endlessly, but he had never had access to her like he does here. Get to know every nuance of her psyche, find more weaknesses. She would never admit that she was a flawed person, but she was. Such pride, one of her greatest weaknesses.

He wondered about Angel words, back when he was Angelus again. The part about having to love her in order to kill her. Angelus was a raving lunatic when it came to his women, but he wondered at the meaning of it. At the end of the day, Spike hadn't been able to kill her so far, not for lack of trying.

He indulged in a little fantasy, marching over to her little cottage, tearing it apart until he got to her. It would have to remain a fantasy, he needed to get out of here and her wellbeing was part and parcel of that. He still itched for it though, but in the meantime, he would have to be nice and reserved, enough for her to let him close enough to bite her again.

Being nice as a means to an end was not something he was used to, or good at. He beat, ripped and tore until he got what he wanted. Or with Dru, he relented to the beating, ripping and tearing that she wanted. Seduction, for lack of a better word, was not a tool he had any particular skill with. Picking up lose women and getting them to do what he wants wasn't particularly difficult, but influencing someone on a deep level with them knowing exactly what you were and what you wanted was difficult. There were vampires who specialised in that kind of thing. Not something he had ever really pursued, Dru wouldn't tolerate it for one.

She was a funny thing though, the Slayer. She'd given her loyalty to Angel so easily, even when Angelus was back, she hadn't been able to kill him. He wondered how far she would go to protect him. She had to know Angelus was a subset of the person she professed to love, and the distinction between them was slighter than she would allow herself to believe.

And if she had known Angel at all, she would have known that he would leave, he always does. Irrespective of the loyalty he garnishes in the women he leaves behind.

Spike found her walking through the middle of the village.

"It failed." She said glumly and kept walking. She was obviously distraught as she marched towards one of the little stores and disappeared inside. He followed her towards the store after a moment and found her sitting behind the counter with one of the sweets jars in her lap.

"They tried a reversal thing and it failed." She whined. "And now its 'back to the drawing board'. Which really means they have nothing. We're stuck here."

"Until they figure something out." He said.

"And what if they don't!"

"They will, before long they will throw all the resources of the Watcher's Council at it, and they know about mumbo jumbo. They are hardly going to leave their champion in here long, are they?"

"I hope you're right." She said. "Because if you're wrong, well, it isn't going to suit either of us."

"We will be fine." He said. "We have what we need. You have enough food to feed an army, and with your constitution, you can spare a bit of juice each day to sustain me. We will be fine." If he drew breath, he would be holding it now as he had just basically proposed that she feed him every day. She was either going to reject the idea or go with it. His immediate future and wellbeing hung in the balance at this moment.

"If we can keep ourselves from killing each other." She said and he felt relief was over him as she had not balked at that particular points.

"Needs must." He said, not wanting to beleaguer the point that he actually needed her more than she needed him. His foothold on her need for him was precarious as best. It was basically her insecurity that made up his only trump card. "And if they don't manage to, we will have to find a way or working together. Just for the time we are stuck here."

He left her to work her anxiety out with the delights of the lolly store. He needed to find something to do now that hunting and killing wasn't on the cards. He wandered around searching for entertainment, finally finding a piano. He hadn't played in years, couldn't really play anymore although he'd been made to practice for hours as a child. Accomplishment on the piano had been a requirement of a person of his stature growing up. A persona he had worked very hard to divorce himself from the instant he met Dru. He hadn't played since.

He played with the keys for a while, then got bored. He paced, then decided to search through every object in this village to see if there was anything interesting to find. Which there really wasn't a lot of, quite a bit of arcane kitchen ware, candles and old books. Nothing of much interest. Lots of old things, things that are not seen in houses anymore. He found a moustache grooming kit, complete with waxes. Something he hadn't seen in the last century. It made him wonder how old this snow globe actually was.

And then he paced some more. Dark had arrived, but he would not seek her out until the lights went out. It seemed to take forever. Hunger was biting his insides, but yet he waited. Finally the lights went out and he breathed a sigh of relief. It must be late, there was a clock downstairs but he didn't want to go down yet. He would wait a little longer, wait for her to settle down. Surely she was expecting him, he had mentioned that he needed to feed once a day.

Finally, he couldn't wait any longer and he quietly walked out of his cottage and across the village to hers. The door worked better, she must have worked on it. He opened it, made enough noise so she knew he was there.

Last time he walked up these stairs, he had been suffering with all his joints screaming in pain, his mind barely functioning. He was not in that state tonight, but he was incredibly hungry, itching to sink his fangs into warm soft flesh to be rewarded with the aromatic and heady elixir of life. His mouth was watering.

"I need…" He started but not sure how to finish that sentence in order not to piss her off. She was sitting on the bed in the dark. He could see her well enough. She had a stake on the bed side table. She had been expecting him, he though darkly. It sent a fissure of excitement through him. He wanted to attack her, to fight, but he restrained himself. So he waited.

She said nothing for a while, then said, "Fine, but I don't want a mark beyond what is already there, do you understand?"

"Yes." He said with relief.

"I'll have my stake and if you misbehave, that will be the end of you, understand?"

"Yes." He repeated.

"You sit there, and I will sit here." She said. It was an awkward angle, but he could make do. He leaned in and bit her on the existing scars. He would prefer untouched skin, but this was the price of admission. He lost some of his awareness as her sweet blood started flowing. It tasted divine, like a drug that took over everything. At that moment, he was in nirvana, praying that it would never stop.

Much too soon, she was telling him to stop. Stopping was completely unnatural, it was like dragging himself out of heaven, but with everything in him, he complied. He urge to feed was so strong. He hunger not abated. The hunger, it still consumed him. He was lying on the bed with her on top of him, he hadn't been aware of him doing that. He felt the weight of her, the heat and the hunger transformed.

A different kind of heat spread through him, the kind that wanted friction. He pushed her off him before he did something stupid. He got off her bed as fast as his vampire reactions would let him, like it was on fire.

He was breathing heavy, trying to shake the heady feeling out of his head. Shake the thoughts of skin, lips and grinding touches. He felt gobsmacked. Not to mention embarrassed, the proof of where his mind space had been would be visible if it hadn't been so dark.

He needed to get out of there, needed to think. It was just a natural reaction, he told himself, of not assuaging him hunger. He had always known there was an element of interest with all the Slayers, due to the nature of what they were and what they meant to each other, he just hadn't expected it to material. This could lead to absolutely no good.

"Thank you." He said quietly half way down the stairs. He didn't look back, didn't want to know what he'd see or worse, how he'd react. He needed a bit of space to sort out what had just happened, and to ensure it didn't again.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Buffy woke up the next day feeling funny. She wasn't sure what she was feeling. She didn't really want to get out of bed today. Whatever it was she was feeling, it felt bad. Not as in something bad is going to happen and she needed to mobilise. Nothing was going to happen here. Nothing bad to take care off unless Spike annoyed her to the point of exasperation, which was a distinct possibility.

There was no one to fight, no classes to worry about, no shopping, TV or any other distractions. No one that depended on her except for the aforementioned Mr. Bitie. On the whole, he was very good at utilising her existing scars without creating new ones. She had checked out the damage in the mirror each morning. She mused darkly that it was perhaps an advantage of the old vampires in that they knew their way around their fangs.

She wasn't sure how she felt about feeding him. On one level she truly hated him and his blasé attitude to everything, on another she just didn't care. He would suffer without her, there was always someone who would suffer without her. There were probably people suffering every night she was in here because she didn't stop something bad happening to them. If she didn't deliver, people died.

She had accessed every reserve she had over the last year. She always got up, no matter how disheartened or injuried, or simply exhausted, she had to find something to draw from to get up and continue the fight. But now there was nothing to fight, so she wasn't getting up. Often she got up just to hide things, hide what she was doing, hide how she was feeling, hide what she was, but there was nothing to hide from here either. There was nothing here other than Spike and he seemed to know her secrets including the embarrassing ones.

She stayed in bed for hours, just staring at the ceiling. Her stomach grumbled a bit, but she couldn't be bothered dealing with it. It would take a lot of energy to get up and walk down the stairs.

She turned over and closed her eyes. She wanted to sleep, to escape all the things going on in her head. Angel leaving, Parker using her, the fact that she wasn't really up to scratch when it came to being a University student. All these things sat in her head accusing her.

It was funny that her body seemed to accept that it wasn't getting food today. She didn't feel particularly hungry. Although after a few more hours, she guessed anyway, she was starting to feel shaky and she didn't like it so she dragged herself out of bed and headed downstairs. She was started to get really sick of Christmas dinner. Felt a little bit like it was mocking her in its perfection.

She unenthusiastically shoved food into her mouth without bothering to taste it. She wondered where the parasite was. Wondering what he'd been doing to occupy himself. No actually, she didn't care.

When she'd had her fill she stared at the Christmas tree for a while. She had spent pretty much every minute prior to today pacing, worrying about when they would get her out, her school work, patrolling.

The door opened and the blond wonder walked in. She didn't want him there.

"You're early." She said as he didn't usually come until after bedtime.

"No, you're late. So is your mother." He said and sat down in a chair across the table. "And I'm hungry."

Her mother hadn't turned off the lights, why hadn't her mother turned off the lights. She was starting to worry.

"She's gone out. But her glad rags on and left." He said.

It bothered her that he seemed so completely in tuned with what she was thinking.

"Bloody inconsiderate leaving the lights on." He huffed.

She wished he wasn't there yet again.

"A bit late for eating." He said. "Have to watch yourself, you'll start putting on the pounds if you're eating all night. Fat Slayer is a slow Slayer."

"You're a pig." She said.

"But I'm not lying, am I?" He said. "Now chop, chop, I'm hungry."

She looked around for something to stab him with.

"Please." He added. "The quicker we do this, the quicker its done, and I can leave you to your midnight feast."

Buffy sat and considered it for a moment. She didn't want to jump up and comply. Although there was part of her that didn't mind doing it. It was wrong, but there was a certain thrill in it. Being that close to the enemy. Having the enemy do what the enemy does, but it not being fatal. It was a little like the false danger of a rollercoaster. It was also forbidden on so many levels. It felt forbidden having a vampire feed off you. But there was something there, something about being wanted and needed.

Buffy had never understood why people let or encouraged vampires, but she had gotten an inkling when Angel fed off her. He had almost killed her, but she hadn't regretted it for a second. There was a certain level of intimacy in it that she hadn't felt before. A surrender.

She'd lost her virginity to Angel, but had been too nervous to really engage with the true intimacy of it. And then Parker, well that was just a write off. Feeding Spike was the only intimacy she'd had that hadn't ended up in disaster. Funny that it ended up being with the most wrong person there was. Part of her wanted to explore the concept irrespective of that it involved Spike.

"Fine." She said and got up. "But in the chair in the next room."

She walked into the next room, the room with all the books and a nice cosy chair. Spike seemed to lose control a bit when he fed and somehow they ended up in a very intimate position on the bed, maybe the chair was better. A little more controlled, particularly if she was facing away from him. It was a little more risky as it was harder to reach his heart if he lost control too much, but it was a trade off that she could live with.

He pointed for him to sit down in the chair and she sat in front of him. She sat stiffly and let him do his thing. She felt as he smoothed her hair away from her neck. She felt twisted tingles of anticipation. There was some pain, particularly with the bite, but then there wasn't pain as such, more something she couldn't describe.

She felt his lips then the bite. She hissed at the pain. She felt his reaction to the blood, the point where he seemed to melt but stiffen at the same time. He pulled her to him, like he always seemed to. She relaxed into it as he was feeding. She could feel the reverberation of his moaning on her skin. His hands came around her waist and he was kneading her skin.

His hands moved up and he started kneading her breasts.

Buffy gasped and went to grab his wrists, but he was too strong as he held her to him. She called his name but he was beyond hearing her. He continued kneading her breasts. She recognised the tactical error she'd made choosing this position. This was doubly forbidden, bringing added sensation that wasn't entirely helping with keeping a professional approach to this.

It wasn't light touches, but not rough enough to really hurt. It felt good and so incredibly wrong, not that she'd admit that it felt good in a million years. She tried to concentrate to counting to make sure he wasn't taking too much, but it was incredibly distracting as it sent sensation to other intimate parts of her.

"Spike." She called strongly in her most authoritarian voice. She squeezed his leg hard enough that it would hurt. "Enough."

He slowed down his feeding. His lips were still on her neck, occasionally licking the blood that still flowed with the tip of his tongue. His hands were still on her breasts. Even worse was the stiffness she felt further down. She forced herself away from him.

"Oh my god, you've got a hard on." She said with complete shock.

"Well, it's just a reflex." He said. "Don't go thinking it means anything, its just a reflex. I can't completely feed the hunger and that energy needs to go somewhere. Alternative would be drain you or rip out your throat and I suspect you would have some objection to that."

She could see her blood on his lips. She was shell shocked. She had never really seen Spike as a sexual being. She'd never truly seen him as a real being. And now here he was ready to have sex, with her. He used his finger to clean up the last of the blood, then got up.

"It doesn't mean anything." He said as he walked out of the room. "Just a reflex."

Buffy wrapped her arms around herself. Her breasts felt cold after the firm treatment they had been subjected to. She felt heat in her body she didn't know what to do with. Not to mention she was mortified it was there. Maybe she should have tried harder to make him stop touching her. She felt more than a little disgusted with herself.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Buffy still felt really odd the next day. The whole incident with Spike also confused her, not to mention disturbed her. Spike getting turned on should not have been possible. It went against the rules of the universe.

Although being stuck in a perfect little village in a snow globe wasn't exactly normal either. Everything was wrong. She had to do something.

She jumped out of bed and dress. She had a mission and nothing was going to get in her way. She wasn't exactly sure what, but it wasn't the first time she had faced an obstacle and not known how to get past it. Somehow she always managed. She would again.

She marched out of her cottage and towards the edge of the globe. There was nothing stirring in the Summers' house. Mom was either asleep or at work. Buffy didn't know exactly what time it was. The world outside was moving along without her.

There were no faults at the edge of the snow globe. No hidden doors, just smooth cold glass. There must be some escape hatch, some way to undo the magic that had drawn them here. She searched everything she could think off, but there was nothing.

"There has to be a way out." She screamed with frustration. She kicked the side of the building she had been walking past.

A window opened at the neighbouring building.

"Do you mind?" Spike said. "Some of us are trying to get some sleep."

"Go hang yourself somewhere, Spike." She spat with annoyance.

"Why, its not like it'd achieve anything. Don't need to breath remember." He said. "And as far as self expression goes, I just don't play that way."

Buffy didn't even want to know what that referred to. She marched off. She didn't want a reminder of what happened last night, of where his hands had been. That was just so wrong.

She couldn't think of anything to do, so she was just pacing up and down the little square at the centre of the village.

"What is the matter with you?" He said from between two buildings after in indeterminable amount of time.

"I don't want to be here anymore."

"And the universe is inconsiderate enough not to comply with your wishes. How rude."

"Why are you here, Spike?"

"Well you woke me up and now I can't get back to sleep."

"So you decided to come hang out with me?" She said with incredulity.

"Well, its not like there's anyone else here."

She didn't want the reminder. She practically growled with annoyance.

Spike sat down on one of the cute benches that were scattered around the square and just watched her pace. He was reclined with that arrogant confidence that he had somehow cultivated. She'd have thought he'd be mortified and embarrassed by his little display of spirit last night, but it didn't seem to bother him one bit. Why wasn't it bothering him? What kind of person would not be embarrassed by that?

She didn't want to think about him, she decided.

"You're going to wear a trough in the ground if you keep that up." He said.

She ignored him. She felt so completely angry and annoyed. He should leave her alone before she took out her frustration on him.

"I hate being here." She finally said. It wasn't completely true. Part of her was fascinated by the place, but she didn't quite understand why. "I don't like being…"

"What? Useless?" He said and she cast him a warning look.

"Contained."

"Really, contained is usually such a part of your whole… thing." He said circling his hand in her direction.

"Contained? What is that supposed to mean?" She challenged.

"Well, you're kind of anally retentive."

Buffy gasped. "I am not. I don't know anyone who is less anally retentive than me. And who cares about the opinion of someone who loves their warts more than you do. Mr. I am soooo bad."

"I just accept who I am." He said.

"You mean the loser who can't hang onto his dead mental girlfriend."

"Ditto, sweetheart." He said sharply. Buffy acknowledge that he made a winning point.

"Angel isn't mental."

"Depends on your perspective."

"Spike, I am seriously in a bad mood. You should scadaddle before I chose to take it out on you."

He didn't move but picked his finger nails. Could he be more disgusting, Buffy thought and turned away. She tried to rub the headache from her temples.

"You just don't like being powerless." He said after a while.

"I'm not powerless. I could always stake you if you want proof."

"Cling on to that thought if you must. Its all you have."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She spat through gritted teeth.

"We need each other and we both know it." He said. "So you're not the Slayer here. There is nothing you can do about this. There is nothing for you to fight. You're just stuck here in your own skin and nothing else."

"What are you talking about?" She said, not really considering anything he was saying.

"The world isn't depending on you here. You're just a girl."

"Really, because you're certainly depending on me last time I checked."

"Ahh, and I'm you're whole world." He said with fake sweetness.

"Fuck you, Spike."

"Such language." He chided her. She decided to ignore him.

He sat a while longer and watched her pace. She looked like someone avoiding an uncomfortable truth. He had been in the position a few times to be able to spot it. Away from all the distractions, the girl was avoiding some realities. It was amusing to watch. Well, mildly distracting anyway.

He had an instantaneous fantasy about killing her. The sheer number of times he had fantasies about killing her over the years. He had dreamt about sinking his fangs into her. And now here he was, doing so every night. He could feel her blood in his veins. It was intoxicating.

Things had turned in another direction the previous night. The intoxication has shifted. It wasn't entirely a surprise. Feeding and sex were linked sometimes, he just tended to direct it towards Dru when it did.

He didn't overanalyse it, just accepted that it had happened. What was the point in delving into it. It was just a physical reaction just like the need to feed.

He considered leaving but there was nothing else to do. He wasn't much of a reader, preferring more corporeal activities. So he just watched the girl as she struggled with her unruly emotions. He wished he was elsewhere, but that just wasn't the reality at the moment.

He left for a nap later, and maybe a warm bath. He liked warmth, it was nice. He couldn't generate any of his own. He did try to warm up for feeding time so as to not shock the girl. He just didn't want to give her any excuses to refuse him, so he made the effort to warm himself up.

He was in the living room of his cottage and listened to the clock tick. It sounded familiar, sounds from his living life. He didn't like being here. It brought back memories. It also made him wonder about things that he rarely thought about, like what his life would have been like if something had been different the night he met Dru. If something had delayed him for two or three seconds, things would have been different.

He would have been married eventually. Probably not to Cecily, but he would have licked his wounds and eventually turned elsewhere. He might not have had the most distinguished prospects, but he wasn't chopped liver. He would have had a family. Children. He would have been happy. A slow uneventful life very different from the one he ended up having. Well quasi life.

He'd always considered himself lucky to escape such a life of dullness, conformity and degradation. Once in a while though, he wondered if a boring average life would have more to offer than he gave it credit for.

Hunger was starting to prickle his insides. It was getting dark and it was closer to the time when he would seek her out. He hated having to go over and beg cap in hand, but he had no choice. The fact that she was the Slayer and she was giving him access to her throat made up for it a little. He acknowledged the contradiction.

The problem with the girl was that she refused to acknowledge hers. She insisted on making everything fit in her black and white view of the world. Problem was the world would never accept being so categories. She would have to learn that eventually.

When it was time he made his way over to her cottage. She had eaten, he saw the left overs from her meal. She wasn't waiting for him like she had the earlier evening. She had reverted to being upstairs. He made his way up the stairs. The predator in him was asserting itself. Part of him was stalking.

It was completely dark in the cottage, but he saw her clearly. She knew he was there, he made no effort to hide it. He made his way to the bed in silence and sat down. She lifted her hair away from her neck, but stayed lying on her side.

If his heart worked, it would have been pounding as he leaned close. A slight prick and the sweet metallic taste filled his mouth. Just the most glorious all consuming taste. Humans would never understand the true joy of feeding.

He fed and fed. He knew how long she would tolerate and he stopped before she would force him. He licked the wound. Her skin was so incredibly soft and warm. He could taste the faint salt on her skin and the scent of her. He knew it well now. Dru's scent changed day from day, and it was faint compared to the enveloping scent of Buffy.

There was something about living skin that was fascinating. The buttery feel and slid under his fingers. The shock of heat on the lips. He felt goosebumps. Dru couldn't do goosebumps.

He felt the reverberation through the skin and flesh on his lips as she cleared her throat. He became aware that he was kissing her throat, and she had just cleared her throat to draw his attention. He froze. He was completely on top of her with his arms around her. The weight of her was pinning his arms into the mattress.

"Just reflex." He said quietly.

She didn't move and he extricated himself from the embrace. That had just flowed without conscious thought. It had felt so completely natural. Just a reflex, he assured himself. He wasn't sure how long it had been going on for, but she hadn't fought it, hadn't screamed bloody murder. Interesting.


End file.
